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2014.06.15 - So Four Avengers and an Agent walk into a bar...
Bruce doesn't get out. Like, ever. He doesn't 'do' bars, he doesn't really even drink that much. Being The Hulk and having lowered inhibitions is a bad thing. But, Cap had been having a rough go of it lately, and Tony had wandered onto the ARGUS for some reason or another, and with Henrietta on a mission, somehow, the two men had managed to cajole Bruce into joining them for a drink. And, of course, Steve Trevor happened to be on duty- and SHIELD protocol stipulates that Bruce doesn't get to go anywhere without a SHIELD handler. So Agent Trevor had lost the coin flip. Naturally, Tony had managed to find a proper dive bar in the middle of Gotham. And he'd parked his $350,000 Audi out front, in a blatant disregard for the poverty in the area and the NO PARKING signs. Which hadn't helped Bruce's anxiety as he'd exited the vehicle, shuffling along in his bright panama shorts and a t-shirt saying I HAVE A HUGE HADRON. So Bruce, Trevor, Cap, and Tony had found a wobbly table, and Bruce, rapidly getting as high as possible using his cocktail of drugs and THC inhaler, was staring down the barrel of a shot glass full of 20 year old Jameson. "Why did I agree to this?" he asks no one in particular, his tone plaintive and slightly fuzzy. Tony Stark is sitting back, drinking his club and cranberry because no one will not accuse him of not drinking even though he's not had a drop since the night before he died a while back. He smirks to both Steve and shrugs, "Well, because social lubricant is yet another way to test the boundaries of your self control, Bruce. Besides, you've got two of your besties here that won't let you get Mean Joe Greene on everyone, and a SHIELD agent that can take the fall if you do, so everyone wins. Will, except Trevor. But he's new, so he'll get a slap on the wrist from Maria." he take a sip. Looks around. "Oh wow, they play both kinds of music here: Bieber AND Macklemore." When Steve had said he needed to get out for a while, a dive bar in Gotham isn't exactly what he meant. Still, it had been longer than he was comfortable with since the three of them had been out together, so he was remiss to refuse... even if a SHIELD handler was set to join them. Steve, like Bruce, was less than pleased by the NO PARKING parking, but after they were sat down everything just sort of relaxed a little. Staring down into the row of shots lined up in front of them, he nursed his beer with a look of apprehension. Not so much for himself, but for the man sitting across from him with a completely irrational angry green man living inside him. "But no Cole Porter." Rogers points out while reaching out for one of the small glasses and slamming it back with a teeth clinched hiss. Truth be told, Trevor won the coin flip, but claimed he had lost it. Sometimes it can be fun to babysit S.H.I.E.L.D.'s heroes, and truthfully, he hasn't had a lot to do since he was assigned as their liaison to the Justice League. Sure, he got spend a lot of time with Diana, and that was fun, but it's also been stressful. Who knows how Tony will react when he finds out. And as good as Steve is, Tony is Tony freaking Stark. Not exactly someone he wants to be on the bad side, no matter the carrot. Dressed in a nice suit, he figured it was more of a blend than his usual uniform jumpsuit, or even his casual clothing of a military sweater, khaki pants, and combat boots. He still has his guns on him, oh, he's loaded for bear, or Hulk, as the case may be. Untwisting the top on his bottle of water, he takes a sip of it, drowing some cool, refreshing H2O, before he carefully screws the top back on. You never know with these jokers. "Yeah, new," he says, agreeing with Tony, who either doesn't know he's third in command of S.H.I.E.L.D., or doesn't care. Probably the latter. "So Steve, good name by the way, have you ever thought of writing a book? I'm sure it'd be a best seller with your name on it." Bruce checks his pocket for his version of an epi-pen, which contains enough paralytics and dopamine inhibitors to knock out an elephant. "Tony doesn't pay attention to anyone at SHIELD who isn't a female," Bruce informs Trevor with a vague wave. "Don't take it personally. I don't think he'd notice if Nick Fury disappeared, unless he was replaced by a leggy blonde." He reaches for his drink and eyes it like it's poison, then takes a timorous sip. "Oh my god, that tastes terrible," he says, gagging. He watches Cap knock the shot back, then tries to follow suit. He mostly makes it, sputtering only a little bit and then coughing hard, eyes water. "Why. Why why why," he gasps, coughing and choking a bit. "That is /foul/. Why would you drink this?" he demands of Rogers. "Why does anyone?" Tony Stark shrugs, "Because when you pair it with the right cigar, it's absolutely sublime." he smirks to Bruce, "Besides, the first thing to go numb are the taste buds. Brain Cells are the last. When you get to your face, it's a good place to taper off." -- and thus endeth the lesson. He looks to Trevor, "Don't listen to Bruce. Too much work to maintain such a thing. Despite what my colleagues here will say, I'm actually a changed man. Stable-ish relationships, dry as a bone, doing the good hero thing. Surprised I haven't been turned in as a Skrull." he says with a smirk. Steve is still hissing long after he's taken the first shot and washes down a long drink of his beer before he's confident enough to talk without coughing. "Whoa..." He drags the back of his hand across his mouth, then brushes it over his mouth to rub at the small bits of stubble on his chin. Looking over to Steve, eyes watering a little, "I got offers when I first woke up. A round of interviews with all kinds of high profile television personalities and at least one biographer who thought to turn my story into a book..." Already he's eying the next shot, but for the time being settles for taking drinks off his beer to let the burn cool. That's like battery acid. "I don't know about a cigar, but there was this time..." Pointing with his fingers partially wrapped around the bottle of his beer, "A couple troopers tried to get drunk on mouthwash..." "Oh, Fury has nice legs. We had a costume party. He lost a bet. I have photos." Whether he's telling the truth or making that up, he sells it well. It sounds true. "I'm going to be gainfully employed for as long as I want, even if I did screw up like you said." He takes another sip of his water, and again, puts the cap back on when he's done. Obviously, he's been on the wrong end of a spiked drink, or heard about someone being on that with these folks. He nods to Tony, not taking the bait. He's read the tabloids, he's heard from Diana, but he's in an awkward position. Deciding to try and change the subject, he asks, "What's this I hear about Hammer going after one of your subsidiaries, something about a next gen hard drive?" Bruce shakes his head at Tony, still red-faced, and tries to comport himself. "I didn't know you were dating, Tony," he tells his friend, looking surprised. "How long has /that/ been going on? Man," he asks of himself, "do I just not get out of the lab enough?" he mutters under his breath. "...I really should get out more." "How did that mouthwash thing work out, Cap?" Bruce asks Rogers. "I don't know the chemical composition of mouthwash in the '40s. Did they get drunk or what?" He absently takes a sip of the Jameson, then blinks. "...an intense, fruity flavor," he announces, smacking his lips. "Creamy, but with notes of ... roasted raisin?" he asks, furrowing his brow and taking another careful sip. Tony Stark nods, "See, Bruce? Now you're getting it. The good stuff has a ton of flavor profile. The older, usually, the more subtle. Come up to the house and I'll show you what I mean. I still keep a cache of the old stuff around. I'll treat you to a tasting. I think you'll enjoy it. You both are welcome to join him, actually. I could use some company." "What're you working on, Bruce? That is, if it's not classified? It's probably classified. Best forget I asked." But then he perks up at the talk of the booze, "Someday, it'd be nice to try the good stuff, too bad I'm on duty, and could never afford it anyway. Billions in the defense budget, and yet I can't get a decent wage. You know they make us pay for our unstable molecule uniforms?" "They skipped the drunk phase and went straight to vomiting." Steve assures everyone of his wayward mouthwash drinking military companions, "As I understand it, there is alcohol in mouthwash... or was, I have no idea now, but the amount to whatever else is in it is infinitely less appealing to... say..." Wiggling one of the small shot glasses, which he takes with a sour expression not terribly unlike the first. Cap is not much of a drinker. Still squinting and hissing out a hot breath of cooling air, "I had a bottle that President Churchill gave me." Coughing into the back of his hand, "Whoa.. not sure where it went, most of my effects weren't preserved... or got split up and sold off after the war as memorabilia." Bruce nods at Tony. "Ok, sure thing. I'd be happy to come up and have a drink. You know, leave the opulence of the lab." At Steve's question, Bruce shakes his head, fishing for his cell phone. His thumb moves in a dizzying series of circles, unlocking the phone. The image background is a selfie of him with a goofy grin, holding a red-headed woman close. Steve Trevor might recognize her as Agent Black. "I'm working on a few things. Mostly lasers right now. I love lasers. Also, 'etta was on vacation last month, and I got really bored, so I built the ARGUS using a couple of Lego Star Destroyer sets. See?" he says, holding his phone up so Trevor can see the picture. It is, indeed, the Lego version of the ARGUS, complete with a little Nick Fury on the bridge. It is, apparently, a 1/16th scale model, nearly four feet long. "Oh, and I'm doing some research on inducing a gamma event in mice. So far, the results are promising. But I have to keep them in a lead-lined, titanium cage," he explains. "Wasn't Churchill Prime Minister of Great Britain? And this man needs some water." Noting a passing waitress with a bottle of water and some booze, Trevor gestures, "Here's twenty bucks to get that man another bottle of water." Shrugging, she accepts his offer, and Trevor opens the bottle and holds it to Rogers, "Here, drink some of this, it'll help, Captain." Tony Stark shakes his head, "Bruce..we gotta get you out more. Seriously, man. Legos? Oh water? We don't need water. Here." he takes a pill bottle out of his coat and sets one down in front of Bruce and Steve. "Party favors. Polyethylene. Give it ten minutes and it will null the effects of the alcohol." he says, giving a wink to the table. "Listerine, actually. Any of the mouthwashes you can't keep in your mouth longer than thirty seconds because it burns and lazes off the top layer of gum tissue? Alcohol based." he says with a nod. While trying to get Captain America some water, Steve Trevor looks at Bruce's phone, "Lasers are good, I get to fire them, they make things go boom. I always love making something go boom." He's a kid in a candy store when he goes to the S.H.I.E.L.D. firing range. "Of course, I prefer to fly jets. That's what I miss most about being in the service. Sure, I get out in the open sky from time to time, but it's never enough for an old flyboy like me." When the gamma event in mice is mentioned, he grimaces, "Oh god, the Incredible Mouslk?" Then, the pill is shown, and he tries to get Steve to drink it down, "You and your toys, Tony." He chuckles. "He was also a very colorful personality." Steve says of Churchill, "I only met him once, rotated back to London and he paraded me around to a bunch of parties hoping that it would drum up more national pride and support for the war." He reaches out for the bottle, "I helped out, he appreciated it, and gave me a bottle of his favorite whiskey. I never got a chance to open it, since he made me promise to wait until we could share a glass... said he'd introduce me to the King." Snickering quietly, shrugging one shoulder. One eye droops just a bit, but it fixes on the bottle that twirls slowly on the table in front of them. "No... no I think I'll pass on the pills. My hypocrisy actually does have bounds." Raising his water bottle in salute to the table. Bruce does something with his phone, then sketches out some Lewis structures on a cocktail napkin. "I don't think that'll interfere with anything I'm taking. Thanks, Tony," Bruce says, accepting a pill and popping it readily. He washes it down with another sip of Jameson, looking properly relaxed. "In my defense," Bruce tells Tony, "Henrietta /was/ on that mission to London. I was bored, and my therapist says I shouldn't spend so much time in the lab. But then I'm just sitting in my room, bored, watching Netflix for hours on end. So I got some Legos and decided, what the hell." He frowns. "Henrietta's redecorating our room, though, so they might end up getting moved. Oh- thanks again for letting me use your table at Fork," he adds, clinking his glass against Tony's with a little bit of a drunken wobble to the motion. "She loved it. Made a great welcome home dinner date." Tony Stark waves a hand, "Least I could do, man. So..our room, eh? Things getting seriouser and seriouser there?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow. He looks over to Steve, shrugs. "Hold onto it, you never know when it may come in handy. I mean, I know it's not my dad's work, but hey - I do better following in his footsteps these days. What's SHIELD been having you do as of late, anyway? Anything fun?" "Fun is... perspective." Steve says of SHIELD as it relates to what they have him do. He spares a glance at the other Steve and shrugs one shoulder, leaning forward to clutch both hands around the neck of his bottle. "Opening my eyes to the way things really are is more accurate." A bottle he lifts for a long drink, sour expression on his face that is completely unrelated to whiskey shots. Steve agrees with Steve on the drug issue. Especially one given by Tony. He's heard the stories. Even if most of them aren't true, it's enough to make him wonder. "S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't bad, it's not all fun and games, but it serves a purpose. But, it's... diverse. I mean, in what world would the four of us all work for the same guys?" "Yeaaaah, very serious," Bruce hedges, nodding at Tony and fiddling with his empty glass. "I asked her to move in with me when she got back. And then she, uh, kind of floated the 'L' word. That was... well, we kind of had to get a third party involved in that conversation, if you know what I mean. But it came out ok. For some reason, she seems willing to overlook my various glaring character faults," he shrugs at his friend. "SHIELD's an all-right organization. I mean, they stayed hands-off while I was in India. When I was ready to come back, they were waiting. ...then again," he hedges, "I kind of fall under the category of 'things they want to keep an eye on', so... there's a reason I get the big bunkroom and I don't have to wear the SHIELD t-shirt." Tony nods, "Well, granted, I don't really work for SHIELD nowadays..but I might as well be a corporate sponsor. So yeah, I can see the point. Hmm. Maybe I could do something with that..at least I could handpick my people." he eyes the three gathered at the table, "But they'd get pissed off I was stealing all their top guns for myself. They'd be right, of course." he says, sipping more of his virgin drink. "Glad to hear things are going so well, Bruce. I know you were worried about that for a long time, good to see that there's someone for everyone. Or in my case, six." he says with a wink and a smile that has a bit more despondency to it that it probably should. Steve hums quietly to himself and drinks water rather than go into more detail on his opinions on S.H.I.E.L.D. immediately, rather taking the time to form something that doesn't stink of slight inebriation. "It isn't the agents." He finally comes up with, "I've had more than my share of good experiences with Agent Black." Motioning thankfully to Bruce, "Fury, Maria.. both solid soldiers." His brow furrows thoughtfully, "But the last mission we ran... Heck, the entire premise... it isn't why I agreed to join the Super Soldier program." What's left of the water is gone in another long gulp, "It flies in the face of the world I remember and as much as I'm starting to realize it is exactly what the world needs, it still stands directly in opposition of everything I ever stood for. In a way, I feel like a hypocrite... Spies and sneaking around and..." Flapping his hand over back and forth. "Nevermind.. just alcohol talking." "That's great, Bruce, glad to hear it." Agent Trevor takes another sip of his bottle of water, finishing it off. "Gives us all hope, especially those of us in, looking, or hoping for an unconventional relationship." He tries to flag down a server for another bottle of water, but the one who goes by doesn't seem to notice his hand gestures. He thinks about what Tony has to say, and decides, that some of us aren't in it for the money, though we might like joke that we are. He says nothing, but he does look thoughtfully at the empty plastic bottle in front of him. Then, he looks over to his namesake, "Steve, you came from a better world. A world of black and white. A world where the country united against a common evil. Nowadays, everything's grey. We can't even unite against gun legislation against the kind of stuff /I/ get issued." Bruce shrugs awkwardly at Tony, looking... /shy/, of all things. "Yeah. It's... a new thing for me. Been a long time since I had someone around." As the conversation gets a bit more serious, Bruce listens to the men talking, then quietly clears his throat. "It sounds like... what is, uh, needed here, is something that goes a bit beyond SHIELD. Not freelancers, exactly, but a group of people who are willing and able to step up when big punches need to get thrown around. And no offense, Agent," he apologizes to Trevor, "but SHIELD does have red tape, and ways of slowing things down- or bypassing red tape, too. I'm thinking... what if we- wow, I am drunk- what if a few of us got together and really started making a difference?" He taps the table, looking at the three other men. "Beyond SHIELD, beyond anything else. We're all still citizens, with free will. We could put a team or something together to make a real difference, in the ways that really, only guys like us are capable of, instead of me fiddling in my lab all day, or doing clandestine missions in grey legal zones." "It's easy to say that from here." Steve chimes with a shake of his head, "It wasn't a black and white world, it was just a clearer one. The enemies wore their flag on their sleeves, but there was plenty of garbage to gnash your teeth at." The empty bottle of water is slowly turned on the tabletop, eyes watching water roll along the wooden surface slowly, "Racism, sexism.. economic hardship the likes of which people today are hardly prepared to face." The empty water bottle is replaced by a half full beer which he drinks heartily, "Now there's satellites that can stare down into someones living room and see what they're watching on television and while all of that is going I have to go on television and promise American people that our Government is doing it for the good of our 'freedom'." His expression looks slightly drawn, hardened slightly, eyes focused on little droplets of condensation, "You want to know how that feels? To lie to people who look up to you as a 'hero' because you stood against Nazis? Half the time I feel like I'm carrying the last morality left.. and the other half I'm trying to look strong so my friends..." Motioning around the table with the mouth of his beer, "Can still look at me and say.. Well, Steve is standing strong. He's a rock, we can fall in behind him because he can carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. And I barely even believe I deserve that distinction, much less that respect, because I'm the face of a machine that I neither understand, nor... I'm starting to realize, agree with." Most of it is mumbled, but he pauses when Bruce speaks and cants his head to one side. Nodding slowly in agreement with the ideas he hears, but staying quiet for a moment while milling over the logistics of it. "I'm all for it, Bruce, but I'm not exactly in the same league as you folk. I help out in any way I can, but I wasn't doused with gamma rays, or wear a suit of armour, or drink a super soldier serum. Actually, I don't think you drank it, but whatever, that's not important. At the end of the day, I'm just an ordinary guy trying to keep up with a superhuman world." He downplays himself, even though he's held his own against the super powered types. He has skill, he has experience, and he is no push over. But he's not Batman. "Far as I'm concerned, you live your life, you do good, and you'll be rewarded. My father always said to me that "god knows the age of every tree, and the colour of every flower. And he knows just how wide your shoulders are. He'll never give you anything to carry that's bigger than you can handle." But then he adds, "Of course, he never told me anything about having to grow bigger shoulders." Tony Stark looks to those gathered. "I can help with all that. It might not be popular. But even apart from the JLA. I don't want to be bound up from doing the right thing - no matter what it is - because of operating sanctions, or things like that. I mean, I have the Avengers. It's not SHIELD's..so we have the platform to do that. We can give it that direction." "Yeah, but I know about jack about infiltrating a secure installation," Bruce counters to Trevor. "Look, I'm just- I'm just saying. You guys," he slurs, "are awesome. And we know some awesome people. Maybe what we need is a couple other guys who, y'know, /get it/," he adds. "Tony, those pills aren't working as fast as I'd like," he admits to his friend. "Maybe it's time to dust the Avengers off again," he muses out loud. "Stay away from the grey area stuff. Leave that to SHIELD. I'm not... I'm not saying, y'know, we're not on duty like, ALL THE TIME," he says, "but y'know, we could get some guys and get together and kick some ass. That's all I'm saying," Bruce slurs. "My face is numb. Is that good?" he asks Rogers, squinting a bit. Steve rubs his own face and laughs quietly to Bruce, "I think it means you're drunk, pal." Smirking a little, head propped up in his palms. "We should dust the Avengers off, long overdue in my opinion. I don't work very well in the grey area..." Actually, he's not 'bad' at it, he can be an effective weapon in the grey war, but is far more suited to straightforward. Slowly, he stands up from his seat and braces himself with one palm flat on the table. "Alright buddies.. I think I should catch a cab home. Or to a motel.." Nodding, "Yeah, motel. Closer." Steve jokes, "S.H.I.E.l.D. doesn't want to interfere or control the League. We want to help and support them. That's why they assigned me as a liaison. What can we do to help? Now, you have one voice to talk to. And on most matters, even world threatening ones, I can speak for S.H.I.E.L.D." Then he looks at Bruce, "Oh, I don't know, I bet the other you can be pretty sneaky when he wants to be. How else do you lose S.H.I.E.L.D. as often as you do." Did he just admit that S.H.I.E.L.D. has at times not known the whereabouts of the Hulk? Maybe he's just being kind." But when Steve Rogers heads out, Steve Trevor speaks into his watch, "Eagle needs a cab." And one will appear outside, vouched by S.H.I.E.L.D. Tony Stark nods, "True. But even with all that, Trevor, SHIELD has its own agenda - and well they should have. It's not a bad thing, it just doesn't seem to mesh with Steve..or really anyone who's signing up to work towards what Steve started, and I can understand that. My point is, is that we have a perfectly good way of doing that collecting dust under our noses." He finishes his virgin drink and lounges back, looking thoughtfully upwards as the men descend into quiet contemplation. Rogers leaves, tottering off to find a cab waiting, and in short order, Bruce is drunk enough that it's time for the walking catastrophe to get carted off into a taxi. Still, that question lingers in the scientist's mind, as Tony peels out in his Audi and Trevor gets him into a black SUV- that question of whether it's time to take off the lab coat and do something in the world that requires more of his green game face. It's a question that follows him into blackness as Trevor drops him off with Henrietta, and it's the last thing he thinks about before passing out entirely aboard the ARGUS, safe and sound. Category:Log